Lyndon Fagan

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Who is Lyndon Fagan?

There are only two kinds of programming languages: those people always bitch about and those nobody uses...

  • Phone Number *** - **** 7989
  • E-Mailheavywolf217***@******.***
  • Birthday23 December 1983
  • EducationMonroe College - Information Technology
  • Address Customs Street No: 7989
  • CityNelson
  • CountryNew Zealand

Lyndon Fagan Online Statistics

Lyndon Fagan have a 210 following and 141 followers. Lyndon Fagan's world rankings is 538304. This page is based on Lyndon Fagan's online data & informations. You can find information birth date, place of residence, phone number, address and social media accounts on Lyndon Fagan's page.

210Followers
141Following
538304Popularity
250Scores

About Lyndon Fagan

Am to Good to Be ture 

This is the last of all, this is the last!
I must hold my hands, and turn my face to the fire,
I must watch my dead days fusing together in dross,
Shape after shape, and scene after scene from my past
Fusing to one dead mass in the sinking fire
Where the ash on the dying coals grows swiftly, like heavy moss.

Strange he is, my son, whom I have awaited like a loyer,
Strange to me like a captive in a foreign country, haunting
The confines and gazing out on the land where the wind is free;
White and gaunt, with wistful eyes that hover
Always on the distance, as if his soul were chaunting
The monotonous weird of departure away from me.

Like a strange white bird blown out of the frozen seas,
Like a bird from the far north blown with a broken wing
Into our sooty garden, he drags and beats
From place to place perpetually, seeking release
From me, from the hand of my love which creeps up, needing
His happiness, whilst he in displeasure retreats.

I must look away from him, for my faded eyes
Like a cringing dog at his heels offend him now,
Like a toothless hound pursuing him with my will,
Till he chafes at my crouching persistence, and a sharp spark flies
In my soul from under the sudden frown of his brow,
As he blenches and turns away, and my heart stands still.

This is the last, it will not be any more.
All my life I have borne the burden of myself,
All the long years of sitting in my husband’s house,
Never have I said to myself as he closed the door:
“Now I am caught! —You are hopelessly lost, O Self,
You are frightened with joy, my heart, like a frightened mouse.”

Three times have I offered myself, three times rejected.
It will not be any more. No more, my son, my son!
Never to know the glad freedom of obedience, since long ago
The angel of childhood kissed me and went. I expected
Another would take me,—and now, my son, O my son,
I must sit awhile and wait, and never know
The loss of myself, till death comes, who cannot fail.

Death, in whose service is nothing of gladness, takes me:
For the lips and the eyes of God are behind a veil.
And the thought of the lipless voice of the Father shakes me
With fear, and fills my eyes with the tears of desire,
And my heart rebels with anguish as night draws nigher.

start your business

Lyndon Fagan's Motto

Such is the state of life, that none are happy but by the anticipation of change: the change itself is nothing; when we have made it, the next wish is to change again...

Lyndon Fagan's Fact

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